A Handful of Dust
by Girl in a White Dress
Summary: A brutal murder shocks Hertfordshire and suspicion immediately falls on the newcomers to the area. P&P AU. Lizzy/Darcy. Jane/Bingley. WIP.
1. Chapter 1

Title: A Handful of Dust  
Author: Melanie-Anne  
Rating: T  
Summary: A brutal murder shocks Hertfordshire and suspicion immediately falls on the newcomers to the area. P&P AU. Lizzy/Darcy. Jane/Bingley.  
A/N: This is a work-in-progress. I have a two-year-old and a six-month-old. This is my attempt to stay sane. I will update as often as I can.

* * *

_What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow_

_Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,_

_You cannot say, or guess, for you know only_

_A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,_

_And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,_

_And the dry stone no sound of water. Only_

_There is shadow under this red rock,_

_(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),_

_And I will show you something different from either_

_Your shadow at morning striding behind you_

_Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;_

_I will show you fear in a handful of dust._

– The Waste Land, T.S. Eliot

* * *

Chapter One: Elsie

Fanny Bennet had made it her life's work to raise marriageable daughters and, now that eligible (and rich) young men were rumoured to be staying at Netherfield, pinned her hopes on one of them choosing Jane as his bride – for, of course, Jane was the loveliest young lady in all of England and had to be destined for a rich young man – and thus saving the Bennet family from starving in the hedgerows should Mr Bennet suddenly leave this mortal coil.

As soon as Mrs Bennet went off in raptures about "four thousand a year" and "ten thousand a year, oh, Jane!" her second eldest daughter let her mind wander to more pleasant topics. Elizabeth, even at twenty was far more sensible than her mother, and knew the likelihood of starving in the hedgerows after her father's death was not so great as to cause concern. There were more than enough aunts and uncles who could take the family in, some more happily than others.

So, while Elizabeth was contemplating her trip to the Lake District with her aunt and uncle Gardiner in the coming summer, she almost missed the commotion that followed. It took a moment before she registered that the shrill piercing noise was not just in her head, but was in fact a woman's scream. Mrs Bennet stopped speaking mid-sentence, and all the ladies in the room exchanged shocked glances. Mr Bennet frowned in the direction of the door, beginning to rise to his feet just as the door opened and a very pale Mrs Hill stepped inside.

"Beggin' your pardon," she said, then looked back in the direction from which she'd come. "Beggin' your pardon . . ."

Lydia impatiently threw down the bonnet she had been working on. "Oh, Hill, what is it?"

"Hush-" Jane began, but was cut off by more wailing from another part of the house.

"Mr Bennet, sir." Hill stared at the floor, wringing her hands. "You're needed-"

Another desperate wail filled the air, this one so full of grief and despair that Elizabeth shivered.

"Who is making that dreadful noise?" Mr Bennet's patience was clearly at an end, but Elizabeth knew him well enough to detect the concern behind his words.

"Susannah, sir. It's Elsie – they found her – there's talk she was murdered."

Mr Bennet snapped his book shut before Hill could say another word. If he had hoped to prevent his daughters from hearing, his hope was in vain.

"Murdered?" Lydia squealed, looking gleeful rather than horrified. Kitty clapped her hand to her mouth, covering her own less-than-ladylike squeal.

"Murdered?" Mrs Bennet slumped back in her chair, fanning her face with her hands. "My nerves! Oh, Jane! Oh, Lydia! Where are my salts? Murdered!"

As Jane hurried to find Mrs Bennet's salts, Elizabeth followed her father and Hill out of the room. Mary slipped out a moment later, shutting the door behind her. Elizabeth smiled gratefully; if she had to endure listening to Lydia and Kitty salivating over the news, she surely would have indulged her impulse to throw something at them.

"Girls," Mr Bennet said, "you need to stay here."

Elizabeth had no desire to leave the house, but idleness was not in her nature. "Let us take care of Susannah, Papa," she said.

Mr Bennet nodded, then went out to saddle his horse. Hill grasped Elizabeth's hands in her own. "Thank you, Miss Lizzy; Miss Mary. Poor Susy's in an awful state."

"Hill, what happened?"

Hill exhaled heavily. "Johnny come ridin' up fast this mornin', callin' for Susy to come quick. Said her family needed her at home. You know Susy, though; she's not one to drop her work and run home jus' because someone says so. So Johnny, he had to tell her the whole story: her papa went out hunting this morn and came upon Elsie . . ."

Here Hill's words dried up. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Hill?" Mary prompted.

"Johnny said she was tied to a tree, Miss Mary. Naked as the day she was born. Her throat – her throat-"

Mary took Hill's elbow and guided her to the kitchen. She helped Hill into a chair while Elizabeth poured a cup of tea.

"Where is Susy now?" Elizabeth asked.

Hill's hand trembled as she accepted the cup of tea. "Her room, Miss Lizzy. I told Johnny to send for the doctor before I went for your father."

"Mary, will you stay with Hill?"

At Mary's nod, Elizabeth went to Susy's room in the servants' quarters. Susy was of an age with Elizabeth and had been with the Bennet family for almost three years. Although she was a maid, the daughter of a tenant, Elizabeth had always thought of her as a friend. Elsie, two years younger, had also been Elizabeth's playmate once.

There was no sound from within the room. Elizabeth knocked on the door. "Susy? May I enter?"

Despite not receiving a reply, Elizabeth opened the door and found Susy curled up on the narrow bed. When Susy saw Elizabeth, she started wailing again.

"Oh, Susy!" Elizabeth knelt on the floor beside the bed, putting her arms around her friend. "I'm so sorry."

"It isn't her," Susy said between sobs. "It can't be her."

"Perhaps Johnny was mistaken," Elizabeth said, though she doubted it.

"Who would do such a thing?" Susy wailed into her pillow.

Elizabeth didn't reply. She rubbed Susy's back and thought of the dark days ahead. She knew this was just the beginning of Susy's family's nightmare, and couldn't help but wonder how much worse things were going to get.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: A Desperate Hope

Elizabeth returned from the servants' quarters to find her mother practically incoherent with yet another fit of nerves. Her thoughts were still with Susy, whom she had only left after Susy finally fell into an exhausted slumber, and so she did not immediately realise this was a different attack of nerves to the one she had witnessed earlier.

"Oh, Lizzy!" Jane pulled Elizabeth to the window and spoke softly so their mother wouldn't hear. "Lydia and Kitty are gone!"

"Gone where?"

"Nobody knows. They cannot be found." Jane cast a worried look at their mother. "They left the room after Mary but we didn't think anything of it until Mama asked for Lydia."

Elizabeth, knowing her youngest sisters' personalities too well, sighed heavily. She had a strong suspicion that Lydia, thrilled by the mystery of the news, had convinced Kitty to follow their father. No doubt Lydia had thought only of the adventure, and nothing of the horror of poor Elsie's death.

"Mama is convinced that they have been abducted by the person who hurt Elsie and that Papa will find their bodies when he returns home." Jane shook her head in dismay. "Lizzy, do you think the person who did that would hurt more girls?"

"I think Kitty and Lydia have more to fear from Papa than anyone else." Elizabeth relayed her theory to Jane, whose countenance immediately showed her relief.

Just then, the front door opened loudly as the two youngest Bennets entered, followed by their father. Drawn by the noise, Elizabeth left Jane with their mother and went to meet the others. She was in time to see Lydia leading Kitty up the stairs by the hand, both girls in tears. Mr Bennet watched them go, his expression grim. Elizabeth could not recall ever seeing her father this angry before.

"Papa?" Elizabeth said.

Mr Bennet's features softened somewhat as he turned his gaze to his favourite daughter. He sighed. "Ah, Lizzy. I didn't want them to see that poor girl."

Elizabeth drew nearer to her father. "Was it as terrible as Hill said?"

Mr Bennet shook his head. "Worse, Lizzy. Worse."

Elizabeth, never one prone to fits of tears, felt her eyes burn as she thought of Susy and Elsie. How could Elsie's fate have been worse than what Hill had earlier told her and Mary. "Papa-"

"No, Lizzy. You don't want to know." He swallowed, struggling with his own emotions. "_I_ don't want you to know."

Elizabeth put her hand on his arm. "What of Kitty and Lydia?"

"I daresay seeing her there was punishment enough." He sighed again, then squeezed Elizabeth's hand and walked in the direction of his study.

Elizabeth hesitated a moment, torn between the desire to follow him and the need to check on her sisters. When she heard the study door slam shut, she went to her sisters' bedroom.

Lydia was buried beneath her blankets, still wearing her shoes and bonnet. Elizabeth could hear muffled sobs from the shaking mound on the bed. Kitty stood at the window, her back to Elizabeth.

"Kitty?"

Kitty whirled around. "I am never listening to another word she says! She can find someone else to follow her around! I am done doing what she wants me to do!"

"I didn't make you come," Lydia accused from under her bedding.

Elizabeth sat on the edge of Lydia's bed and carefully peeled back the layers until she could see Lydia's face. "Lydia-"

"I didn't think it would be like that," Lydia said. Her sobs had subsided to hiccups. "I didn't even think it was real."

Elizabeth had the uncharitable thought that Lydia didn't often think at all, but she held her tongue.

"I thought we'd get there and find it was just a joke," Lydia continued.

Elizabeth put her hand on Lydia's back. "Nobody makes jokes like that, Lyddie. Certainly, Elsie would never have been so cruel as to pretend . . ."

She trailed off as her mind's eye conjured a picture of the scene and couldn't help but shudder. She wondered again what kind of person would do something so evil. Surely no one of her acquaintance. It must have been someone passing through the area, she decided.

"Lizzy, do you think we are in danger?" Kitty was looking out the window again. Elizabeth heard the fear in her voice but when she tried to go to her, Lydia's hand clamped around her wrist.

"I don't want to die like that!" Lydia was sobbing again.

Elizabeth wanted to reassure them; she wanted to reassure herself. But her earlier certainty that Elsie's death was the work of someone passing through was more a desperate hope than anything of substance. Still, she had to try.

"All will be well," she said, wearing a smile she didn't truly feel.

The door burst open and Mrs Bennet entered. "Oh, my girls! You don't know how worried I've been! Lydia! Kitty!"

Elizabeth willingly gave up her seat on Lydia's bed, and quietly shut the door behind her as she left the room. Jane and Mary were standing at the foot of the stairs; when Elizabeth reached them, she put her arms around them both and drew them close for an embrace.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thank you for your reviews. I'm glad that you are enjoying the story so far. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. :)_

Chapter Three: The Assembly

Elizabeth could think of a thousand places she would rather be right now than at the assembly. She had tried to make her mother understand she was not in the mood for dancing and revelry tonight; indeed, even if she was so inclined, it was hardly proper considering the community was still reeling from the news of Elsie Cartwright. Yet, Mrs Bennet was insistent. "Jane must go," she had said from her seat on Lydia's bed, "for if she does not meet Mr Bingley tonight then someone else will snare him first."

Mary, declaring the impropriety of the assembly going ahead in spite of the murder, stayed home in protest. Kitty, told by Mr Bennet she was to consider herself and Lydia "no longer out until you are capable of displaying some sense!" said she didn't care to go anyway. Lydia was the only one who truly wished to attend, and on learning that she couldn't, stormed to her bedroom in tears.

In the end, Jane and Elizabeth had caved to their mother's wishes, not because they agreed with her, but because they knew from experience when an argument would not be won. Their gowns were adorned with black ribbons and they had chosen not to dance.

They were standing with Charlotte Lucas in a corner of the hall when the much-anticipated Mr Bingley and his party made their late entrance. There was a momentary hush as all eyes looked to the newcomers, before the buzz of conversation resumed.

Elizabeth, though determined not to enjoy herself, could not help but indulge in her favourite pastime of character study.

"Well, Lizzy?" Charlotte prompted with a smile. "What can you tell us about the Bingley party?"

"The young man in the front seems to be the only one of his party who actually wants to be here."

"That's Mr Bingley," Charlotte said.

"Ah, Jane, we must arrange an introduction." Elizabeth affected her mother's voice.

"Oh, stop, Lizzy." Jane blushed, though her gaze remained on Mr Bingley.

"What of the rest?" Charlotte asked.

"The tall dark man behind Mr Bingley has better things to do. Look how he scarcely acknowledges the people your father is introducing. And those feathered creatures seem quite uncomfortable here in the wilds of Meryton. The other man, at least, has no objection to being here, although I'd wager as long as he has food and drink, he could be happy anywhere."

"Those are rather harsh sentiments, Lizzy." Jane frowned at her sister. "Perhaps they are only uncomfortable because everyone keeps staring at them as if they're in a zoo."

"Perhaps." Elizabeth tilted her head in acknowledgement. "Perhaps my opinions will change after we are introduced."

"Here is your chance now," Charlotte said.

The three young women looked to see Sir Lucas leading Mr Bingley and his friend toward them. Mr Bingley's bright eyes and wide smile only strengthened Elizabeth's impression of him as jovial. She was still undecided about his friend.

"Mr Bingley, you remember my daughter, Charlotte," Sir Lucas said upon reaching them. "These lovely ladies are the Misses Bennet; Jane and Elizabeth."

The ladies curtseyed as they were named.

"Girls, this is Mr Bingley who has leased Netherfield, and this is his friend, Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire."

Elizabeth observed that although Mr Bingley smiled at each of them, he had eyes only for Jane. Oh, how Mama would crow with delight if she could see this, Elizabeth thought.

"Miss Bennet, would you do me the honour of dancing with me?" Mr Bingley said.

Jane's smile faltered. "I'm sorry, Mr Bingley. I would love to, but my sister and I are not dancing tonight."

Mr Bingley's smile faded somewhat. "Not dancing? Why not?"

"We are in mourning, sir," Elizabeth said.

"Oh. I see. I'm sorry." Mr Bingley looked regretful at not being able to stand up with Jane. Then he brightened. "Would you at least permit me to escort you to supper later?"

"I would be honoured," Jane said, her own smile returning.

As the men bowed and left, Elizabeth noted that Mr Darcy had remained silent throughout the exchange. Frowning, she kept her gaze on him as she wondered wondered why a man who so obviously didn't want to be here had come.

"Well, Lizzy. Any more observations?" Charlotte asked.

"I don't know. I think Mama will be happy to hear about Mr Bingley's attention to Jane."

When Jane didn't reply, Elizabeth noticed she was still staring after Mr Bingley. Elizabeth smiled; yes, Mrs Bennet would be thrilled indeed.

For a moment, Elizabeth stopped thinking about what had happened to Elsie and simply enjoyed her sister's happiness.

It didn't take long for Mr Bingley to find favour with those in attendance at the assembly. The other members of his party were less fortunate, however; and as Elizabeth made her way outside for a breath of fresh air, she couldn't help but overhear snatches of conversation.

"-oh, their clothes are fine indeed, but their manners? I hear their father was in trade-"

"-if Mr Bingley stays, I do hope those sisters return to London-"

"-what a charming fellow, that Bingley-"

"-Mr Darcy has ten thousand a year; perhaps he is so rich he doesn't need to be pleasant-"

"-so cold! You don't suppose he had anything to do with the Cartwright girl-"

Elizabeth stopped in shock, not sure she had heard correctly. She turned to see who had spoken, but there was now nobody behind her. She wondered who had made such a preposterous leap from someone being cold to that person potentially being a murderer. Surely the comment was made in jest. If she could only pinpoint who had spoken, she would ask.

As she gazed about the room, she noticed several people giving Mr Darcy suspicious looks. Fortunately the man himself seemed unaware of the speculation about him, but it disturbed Elizabeth that it was happening at all. She knew nothing of Mr Darcy except for his supposed wealth and apparently atrocious manners, but still she felt offended on his behalf. He was a gentleman and did not deserve to be slandered in such a manner.

She took a step toward the nearest group of people, intent on saying something in his defence, but she stopped. _Someone_ had murdered Elsie. Perhaps if Mr Darcy was under pressure to clear his own name, then the real culprit would be brought to light. Ignoring the prick of conscience that told her it wasn't the right way to go about finding justice, Elizabeth decided not to say anything.

She glanced at Mr Darcy once more only to find him looking at her. Her cheeks burning in mortification, she hurried outside.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Just a short update today. Poppet is sick and Peanut is teething. I am zombie mom. Thanks for reading and reviewing._

Chapter Four: Darcy

Fitzwilliam Darcy feigned a headache on the carriage ride back to Netherfield. He had not wanted to attend the assembly in the first place, and between Caroline Bingley's simpering all evening and the constant stares from the locals, Darcy was surprised he hadn't actually developed a headache. He had no desire to listen to Bingley extol the virtues of Miss Jane Bennet, or to put up with Caroline bemoaning the lack of everything here in Hertfordshire. She, of course, misinterpreted Darcy's silence as tacit approval of all her comments and it took a large measure of self-control for Darcy not to enlighten her as to his real opinion of her thoughts.

As the party arrived back at Netherfield, Bingley said, "A drink, Darcy? Hurst?"

The latter agreed immediately, but Darcy shook his head. "Not tonight, Bingley."

He pried Caroline's fingers from his arm once they entered the house, then made straight for his quarters. He couldn't get there quick enough; he had certainly had his fill of people for the evening.

As he loosened his cravat, he couldn't help but wonder how Bingley managed to be so confoundedly cheerful all the time. It was almost as if he fed on the energy of others; Darcy found it the reverse for himself. After an evening like tonight, he was completely drained.

A room full of strangers and a leech like Caroline, he thought; of course he was exhausted. If only he already had a wife; then, at least, he wouldn't be the object of scrutiny for so many mothers and daughters. Perhaps he should acquiesce and allow his Aunt Matlock to find him a bride. Or, he could always make Aunt Catherine the happiest woman in England by marrying Anne.

No. He sighed as he finished undressing, then turned to his empty bed. He wanted to marry for love, as silly as that would seem to most gentlemen in his position. He wanted a marriage like that of his parents. He wanted a wife who would love him even if he was a beggar on the street. So far, he hadn't found her in the first circles of the Ton. He certainly hadn't found her in Caroline Bingley. He had no doubt that he would not find her in Hertfordshire either.

Better to stop thinking about a woman who didn't exist, he told himself. He should focus on more important matters.

Georgiana.

He should have brought her with him to Hertfordshire; he would have, had it not been for Caroline. Perhaps if Caroline didn't talk _at_ Georgiana instead of _to_ her, Darcy might have considered bringing his sister. Even in her best spirits, Georgiana struggled in Caroline's company. Considering her current state of mind, Darcy could not torture her so. She had been through enough in recent months.

He found himself thinking of the other Miss Bennet for some reason. Certainly she was not as beautiful as her sister, but there was something about her that intrigued him, something more compelling than mere beauty. She could be someone worth knowing, he thought.

He was remembering her fine eyes as he finally drifted to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I would have posted this sooner, but I couldn't remember my password. Sleep deprivation - what fun! Thank you for reading, and an extra-special thank you for those who took the time to review. I appreciate it hearing from you. :)_

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Chapter Five: Return to Normal

In the days following the assembly, life returned to normal for those at Longbourn. With the news of the militia's encampment in the area, Lydia perked up considerably and Mrs Bennet felt safe enough to allow Jane and Elizabeth to resume their regular visits to the tenants. So it was that on the third day after the assembly, Jane and Elizabeth set out with their baskets.

"You've been rather quiet of late," Elizabeth observed as they left the house.

"Aren't I always quiet?"

"Quieter than usual," Elizabeth said. "Thinking about a certain Mr Bingley, perhaps?"

Jane's cheeks reddened and she pretended to study the items in her basket. "I don't know what you mean, Lizzy."

"You may not have had the opportunity to dance with him, but you did sit beside him for supper. And, you were engaged in conversation for a further half hour after the meal was finished. If Mama had been there to observe the two of you, she would already be planning your wedding breakfast."

"I will confess that I enjoyed his company," Jane said after a moment had passed. "But, Lizzy, he seemed to enjoy the company of many other ladies as well."

"Mr Bingley seems like the type of man to enjoy the company of everyone he meets. However, I will wait until you meet him again before proving that I'm right about his regard for you." Elizabeth shifted her basket to her other arm as they arrived at their first destination. "For now, I will say no more on the subject."

Jane gave a relieved smile as they entered the small tenant house. Mrs Blackstock, a short, round woman with permanently red cheeks, beamed at them as she welcomed them inside. Jane and Elizabeth always stopped to visit Mrs Blackstock first; she could be counted on to inform the girls which families were most in need of aid. Of course, she liked to gossip as much as Mrs Bennet, but Jane and Elizabeth were sensible enough not to believe every word she said, or repeat any of it to anyone.

"Miss Jane! Miss Lizzy! We weren't expecting you this morning."

"Mama has kept us busy at home," Elizabeth said, keeping silent as to why Mrs Bennet had kept them too occupied to visit.

"We came as soon as we were able," Jane added.

"Well, 'tis good to see you girls. A ray of sunshine, that's what you are, and Lord knows we need sunshine these days." Mrs Blackstock held the corner of her apron to her mouth. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with tears. "'Tis a bad business, what happened to poor Elsie."

"Have you seen much of the Cartwrights?" Elizabeth asked. "Susy returned home the day after it happened."

Mrs Blackstock nodded, gesturing for the girls to take a seat. "Aye, I've been going 'round every day. They're doing as well as can be expected, considering. Poor Elsie. Who would have thought such a sweet girl would meet so horrible an end?"

Elizabeth noticed Jane's countenance was pale and thought it wise to change the subject. Jane liked to see the good in everything and everyone; it distressed her to know that not everyone was innately good.

"What of the Carr family?" Lizzy asked. "Are they all recovered from their fever?"

"Aye. Young Joseph was laid up the longest and we all thought he wasn't long for this world, but he is well now. His father had him working in the fields as early as a week ago already."

Once Mrs Blackstock got started, she happily updated Jane and Elizabeth on the tenants' news, keeping them listening for more than a quarter of an hour. When Jane and Elizabeth felt they had been there long enough, they politely excused themselves, leaving Mrs Blackstock with a loaf of fresh bread and a jar of preserves.

* * *

Darcy, though not in the mood for company, agreed to join Bingley for a visit to Longbourn. He felt that tea with strangers was the lesser of two evils when compared to a morning in the company of Caroline Bingley, who had not ceased her whining about the lack of society in Hertfordshire. If Darcy was honest with himself, he would have to admit that Longbourn's appeal was also in part to a certain Miss Bennet, whom Darcy could not remove from his thoughts. He decided that once he got to know her more, he would find that she was exactly like all the other women of his acquaintance, and he could rid himself of his infatuation with her.

He and Bingley travelled on horseback and were almost at the estate when he spied two women walking ahead of them. The gentlemen slowed their horses as they neared the ladies, who turned back to see who was approaching them.

Darcy's breath caught in his throat when he recognised the object of his thoughts but by the time the men reached the Bennet sisters, he was in perfect control of himself.

"Miss Bennet!" Bingley exclaimed. "And Miss Elizabeth! How wonderful to see you again. We were just on our way to Longbourn. You remember my friend, Mr Darcy, of course."

The ladies smiled. Bingley and Darcy dismounted their horses.

"What a happy coincidence," Elizabeth said. "We are on our way home."

"Allow us to escort you." Bingley offered his arm to Jane, who accepted, thanking Bingley in her quiet manner.

"Miss Elizabeth." Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth, allowing nothing of his inner turmoil to show when she accepted.

They walked in silence for a while. Darcy wanted to speak, but found himself strangely at a loss for words. It was thus Elizabeth who broke the silence.

"Your horse doesn't seem pleased at our slow pace."

"It is not in his nature to be slow," Darcy replied with a smile. "Achilles is happiest when racing across an open field."

"A kindred spirit." Elizabeth laughed and looked at the animal. Darcy glanced down at her, the brightness of her expression and the joy in her eyes causing something in him to tighten.

This would not do, he told himself. He knew nothing of her character nor her family; he could not allow his heart to be lost to a pair of sparkling eyes and a pretty smile.

"Do you ride?" he asked, trying to focus on the conversation and not the feel of her hand on his arm.

Elizabeth's sigh was wistful. "No, I never learned. I must confess I've always wondered how it must feel to fly across a field on a horse's back."

"I can teach you, if you'll permit me." Darcy spoke without thinking.

"I can hardly fly across a field riding side-saddle." Elizabeth paused to look at him. "There, I've shocked you. I apologise. I must learn not to speak without thinking. I'm afraid my mother despairs that I'll ever be a proper lady."

Darcy found it hard to focus on her words with the image of Elizabeth astride a horse stuck in his mind's eye. He swallowed hard.

"Did you enjoy the assembly the other evening, Mr Darcy?"

"I'm afraid I'm not one for large groups of people." The confession was out before he realised he had spoken. Apparently Elizabeth wasn't the only one who needed to learn to think before speaking, he mused.

"What of you?" he added, then remembered too late that she hadn't danced and had been wearing mourning colours.

He was grateful she ignored his_ faux pas_. "In normal circumstances, I enjoy assemblies and balls. On this occasion, I would have been happier to stay at home."

Her tone had become serious, and while Darcy wanted to see her smile again, he also couldn't help the desire to know more. "May I ask about your bereavement?"

"Surely you must have heard about the girl in the woods?" Her words were clipped.

"You knew her?" Darcy guessed. He didn't know too many details, only what Caroline had brought to their attention as she complained about the country.

Elizabeth nodded in reply.

Their earlier levity gone, Darcy knew not what else to say, and the remainder of their walk passed in silence.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I had hoped to get this chapter up sooner - I'm aiming to update once a week if I can - but I've been dealing with the dreaded Snot Monster. (Ahh, Autumn, what fun.) Thank you for your patience and for your reviews - I am glad you are enjoying this story. I also appreciate those who have chosen to follow it and/or add it as a favourite._

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Chapter Six: Making Conversation

In a community where everyone knew everything about each other, many things were taken for granted. A person knew not to share anything with Mrs Phillips or Mrs Blackstock that was meant to be kept secret, two ladies who seemed to be in an unspoken competition as to who was the best gossip . Jane Bennet, the local beauty, was destined for a greater marriage than one that could be made to any of the local young men, much to the despair of the local young men and their mothers. Old Miss Campbell clearly belonged in Bedlam, but was so sweet and harmless that everyone loved her, even the shopkeepers who often found items missing after she had rambled through their shops. And Fanny Bennet was the most determined, if not the most hysterical, matchmaking mama. But, because everyone knew this was the way things had always been, nobody cared one whit. Certainly, Elizabeth had never found herself mortified by her mother's behaviour as she did during the visit of Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy.

As soon as Jane introduced the gentleman, Mrs Bennet began fanning herself and extolling the virtues of her eldest daughter. Elizabeth could not disagree with her mother's assessment of Jane, but the manner in which Mrs Bennet did so was clearly inappropriate. Judging from the expression on Mr Darcy's face, he thought so too. Mr Bingley, at least, appeared too enamoured with Jane to mind Mrs Bennet's blatant hints for marriage.

Desperate to do something that would distract Mr Darcy if not stop her mother's words, Elizabeth turned to the gentleman. "You are from Derbyshire, sir, I think Mr Bingley said?"

Mr Darcy nodded. "I am, yes."

"My aunt was raised in Lambton."

To Elizabeth's surprise, Mr Darcy smiled. "Pemberley is very near Lambton. I spent much time there as a boy."

"My aunt has only good things to say about the area."

"How big is your estate, Mr Darcy?" Mrs Bennet asked, and Elizabeth realised too late she had given the mother the wrong impression by engaging Mr Darcy in conversation.

"If it is as large as I've heard," Mrs Bennet continued, "I am surprised you have managed so well without a mistress."

Elizabeth gave her mother a pointed look, which Mrs Bennet ignored.

"Jane and Lizzy are well-versed in running a household. Lizzy even assists Mr Bennet with the accounts." Mrs Bennet smiled at Elizabeth, who could take no delight in her mother's rare compliment to her.

"I'm sure Mr Darcy has a very capable staff, Mama." Elizabeth glanced at Mr Darcy but he was staring at a point on the wall.

"He does, indeed," Mr Bingley said, drawing Mrs Bennet's attention back to himself. "If he did not, he would have been unable to join me here."

"How long do you intend to stay?" Mrs Bennet asked.

"Our plans are not fixed. However, I think I shall be glad to stay indefinitely." Here Mr Bingley beamed at Jane, who blushed and lowered her gaze to her clasped hands.

Elizabeth noticed Mr Darcy frowning in the direction of his friend but could not imagine what had displeased him. Surely he could not disapprove of Mr Bingley's attentions to Jane! Why, she was the daughter of a gentleman and Mr Bingley had himself confessed that his own father had made his fortune in trade.

It occurred to Elizabeth that perhaps Mr Darcy was jealous and had his own designs on Jane. She hid her smile. Poor Jane; this would not be the first time a friendship had been ruined in pursuit of the eldest Miss Bennet. Still, Elizabeth could not help but think that Mr Bingley suited her sister better. Mr Darcy's taciturn nature seemed too similar to Jane's for either of them to be happy. Mr Bingley, however, was outgoing enough for the both of them.

Elizabeth realised she was thinking like her mother and could not quite hide her laugh. She masked it as a cough, then noticed Mr Darcy giving her a peculiar look. Mrs Bennet had turned the conversation to her other daughters, lamenting that they were no longer out without giving a reason why, and Elizabeth felt compelled to explain.

"My sisters are still young, Mr Darcy, and my father feels they would benefit from a little less exposure to society for a few more years." She didn't add that it had anything to do with the recent horror, but from the look in Mr Darcy's eye, she thought he might have guessed at it. "Do you have siblings, Mr Darcy?"

"A sister. She is more than ten years younger than me." Something in his expression remained closed and Elizabeth decided not to pry further into the subject.

When it was time for the gentlemen to leave, Elizabeth and Jane accompanied them outside.

"My sisters do not have friends here," Mr Bingley said. "I wonder, do I presume too much to ask you, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, to further your acquaintance with them?"

Jane, in accordance with her nature, smiled at Mr Bingley. "We would be honoured."

Elizabeth was less interested in getting to know Mrs Hurst and Mrs Bingley. She recalled being quite unimpressed with them at the assembly but, for Jane's sake, she nodded her agreement.

Mr Bingley's smile was for Jane alone. "Excellent."

The gentlemen made their farewells, mounted their horses, and left. Elizabeth hooked her arm through Jane's and said, "I should have made a wager."

"On what?" Jane's eyes were on Mr Bingley's departing form.

"Love at first sight."

Jane blushed. "Don't be ridiculous. Besides, ladies do not wager."

"Ah, but I cannot disappoint Mama. She tells me so often that I shall never be a lady." Elizabeth laughed and the two sisters turned to go back inside. "Prepare yourself, dearest. Mama will be talking wedding dates when we return to her."

Jane's look said she disagreed.

"Shall we wager?"

"Oh, Lizzy!"

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_A/N: Please take a moment to review. :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Oh my word! Sleep deprivation is not for sissies. Peanut has been teething for what feels like an eternity, and although I can feel the nubs on her gums, they have not cut (but that doesn't make the biting any less painful). But, this too shall pass and in the meantime, there's chocolate and coffee and daytime naps. I apologise for the long wait. Thank you for following, favourite-ing (favouriting?) and commenting. You make my heart sing. xxx_

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Chapter Seven: Back to Netherfield

"She is an angel," Bingley declared, a dreamy expression on his face.

Darcy hid his grin; his friend was entirely too predictable when it came to beautiful young women. Not that Bingley was a rake; he simply fell in love frequently. His adoration of a particular woman had never lasted longer than two months at most and so Darcy did not hold any ideas of this attachment becoming permanent.

He was of the same belief regarding his own fascination with the second Miss Bennet. Despite their rapport, despite her smile and the light in her eyes, despite the fact that he had never been so quickly at ease in the company of a new acquaintance before, Darcy was convinced that all Hertfordshire held for him was a friendship. Having met the mother, he was convinced of the unsuitability of an attachment with Miss Elizabeth. He was still firmly of the opinion that it was time to choose a bride, however, and it was with regret that he told himself Elizabeth Bennet was not that woman.

"What do you think of courtship, Darcy?"

Darcy was pulled rather abruptly from his thoughts on his conversation with Miss Elizabeth. Bingley looked so eager and Darcy could not resist the impulse to tease; perhaps he still felt the effects of Miss Bennet's presence.

"Courtship, Bingley? Why, I had no idea you felt an attachment for me."

Bingley's face scrunched in horror. "With you? Darcy, whatever – No, I – NO!"

Darcy chuckled, and it dawned on Bingley that he had been joking. Not to be outdone, Bingley said, "You know, Darcy, you've been leading my sister on long enough now. When do you intend asking me for my consent?"

Darcy paled, his silence apparently encouraging Bingley to continue.

"Your intentions to Caroline are honourable, are they not?"

Darcy spluttered. "Intentions? What has she been telling you? I have never, upon my word, _never_ even _hinted_ at an attachment! You know me better than that, Charles."

Bingley seemed to realise the joke had not been seen as such, and hastened to ease his friend's mind. "I jest, Darcy. Forgive me."

Darcy looked at him, his expression revealing nothing. Bingley grew increasingly uncomfortable under his gaze, and added, "I know there is no attachment on your side, that you tolerate her only for the sake of our friendship."

Darcy's lips twitched and Bingley frowned, realising his friend had got the better of him again. He huffed, turning away. "You know, Darcy, if you showed this side of yourself when in society then people would not be so intimidated by you."

"I am hardly intimidating, Bingley."

"My friend, Will, is not intimidating. Mr Darcy of Pemberley is quite the opposite."

Darcy nodded in assent. He felt at times that his life could be divided into before and after. As a young man at Cambridge he had had a serious side but was in possession of a lightness of heart and spirit that enabled him to enjoy his time there. After the death of his father, he had felt the weight of responsibility so heavy that his humour showed itself only in the presence of those he felt most comfortable with.

Bingley, perhaps sensing the change in Darcy's mood, said, "I hope the Miss Bennets and my sisters shall become good friends."

Darcy had his doubts, but held his tongue.

* * *

Caroline Bingley was not pleased.

She had anticipated this time in Hertfordshire as the next step in furthering her ambition to become Mrs Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire. (She only ever thought of herself as Mrs Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire and never as simply Mrs Darcy. The former had a much more distinguished ring to it, in her opinion.) Caroline had imagined that Mr Darcy's agreement to join her brother here was fueled partly by his desire to become closer to Caroline but it seemed, alas, that she had been mistaken. Instead of spending more time with her, Mr Darcy had joined her brother in visiting some country chits who had nothing to offer either gentlemen in terms of beauty, dowry or connections.

Caroline huffed as she turned away from the window overlooking the drive leading out of the estate. What a boring morning it had been so far! Mr Hurst had spent the morning in the library, catching up on his correspondence. Louisa, complaining of a headache and upset stomach, had spent the morning in bed. Caroline, left to her own devices, had alternated between pacing up and down in her bedroom while thinking of how best to appeal to Mr Darcy's affections, and finding something to chastise the staff about. Thus far, she had told off the cook (for she blamed her for Lousia's illness), had one of the parlour maids reduced to tears (which had not been her intention; she merely wanted the girl to do her job properly), and thoroughly confused the housekeeper by constantly changing her instructions.

She held the hope that Mr Darcy would soon tire of this place and encourage her brother to return to London and society. (Caroline, indeed, did not understand that Mr Darcy's cold _mien_ in company was not due to status but rather to discomfort.) Perhaps she should already begin to drop hints at Netherfield's unsuitability for the Bingleys.

Caroline suddenly remembered a conversation she had heard a few days previously. Two of the servants had been talking about a murder that had occurred recently. Caroline could not remember the particulars of the conversation but she was certain she could use the news to help her convince Mr Darcy and her brother to leave. If she made them see how dangerous the area was for a young woman such as herself, and how unsafe she felt with a murderer on the loose, then they would have little choice but to depart for safer grounds.

Smiling to herself, Caroline sat at the pianoforte and began to play.

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_A/N: Go on, comment. Give me something to read in the wee hours of the morning. :)_


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